Forever
by galesong1234
Summary: A sister story to ALWAYS. A mage's interwoven story of past & future. Will she remain Alistair's mistress or will she find new love in the arms of Nathaniel Howe? Will she ultimately be able to save those she loves from the evil that is inside her?
1. The Missive

_**SPECIAL NOTICE: THIS STORY HAS BEEN PUT ASIDE UNTIL I GET TO A POINT IN IT'S SISTER STORY ALWAYS. THAT WAY I WON'T REVEAL THE ENDING OF ALWAYS. THUS, I RECOMMEND READING ALWAYS FIRST. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. GALESONG**_

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_After much deliberation, I decided to change the name of the main character. I realized, short of late, that these were both Chandra's stories making this a sister story to ALWAYS. This one is an interwoven story of past and future. The trick being not to disclose the ending or rather results of ALWAYS (ALWAYS is more of a passage in time). _

_I am sorry for the confusion, but feel this is the best way to go forward with this story. Thank you for those who have added this story to their favorites. You do not have to read ALWAYS for this to story to be complete, but I believe ALWAYS is a bit more lighthearted._

_Thank you. Galesong1234_

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**Forever**

**Chapter 1: The Missive**

They called this room the study though it was larger than any great hall. It was more formidable than even the Magi's library. The wealth of knowledge that could be found in this room could not deter from starkness of the cold gray stones that held it. The only color to be found was in the tapestry that hung over the mantle of the large fireplace. It depicted a bloody battle between Grey Wardens, darkspawn and an Archdemon. The only other adornment to be found was in the garish carvings of griffins that adorned the large furniture. The room was impressive as well as oppressive. It held very little warmth.

Chandra made a mental note to have one of the recruits take down that hideous thing. Light, why didn't someone think to put in windows she thought angrily to herself? The king had granted the Arling of Amaranthine, lands once owned by the traitor Rendon Howe, to be used as a base for Ferelden's Grey Wardens after ending the last Blight. Chandra remembered the auspicious occasion well; after all, she was the Hero of Ferelden.

Small shivers ran down the length of her spine. The chill seemed to run deeper than her bones these past months. With her husband gone, their bed had become a cold and lonely place. Was it the taint? No, it was more. It was different and that, alone, gave Chandra more cause for worry.

"Commander, you have a visitor," interrupted a fledgling recruit.

"They seem to get younger with each passing day," Chandra thought to herself. Shegave a disgusted look at the vast array of papers scattered across the large table. She was glad of the interruption. A tall woman of reckless beauty imperiously walked past the young recruit. The woman's eyes did not leave the commanders and she spared no thought for the handsome recruit that stood in her way.

A cautious smile played across Chandra's lips, "So, what brings the Charming

Captain of Siren's Call to Amaranthine?"

The curvaceous rogue pushed past the shocked recruit, "I had a delightful encounter with Zev. When Zev found out at that I was headed in your direction, he pestered me into checking up on his favorite Grey Warden. Ah, Sweet Thing, time has been kind to you. Still a tender sweat meat to be sampled," accessed Isabella.

"He does have a way of talking one's ear off." Chandra held her hands out in welcome to greet Isabella with a kiss to the cheek in friendship. Isabella leaned into the embrace and at the last moment turned her face and brushed her lips across Chandra's.

Chandra turned several shades of scarlet as she realized that the young fair-haired recruit was still there to witness such scandalous behavior from the Commander of the Grey.

"Err, yes, and still very much claimed. Marcus, you may take your leave."

"Yes, Commander," as Marcus turned to leave.

Isabella gave a disappointed look, "How is the king these days?" as she handed Chandra the missive.

"Well," Chandra gestured for Isabella to take a seat, "When Alistair is able to leave court he tries to spend time with the initiates which is not often. It is out of his respect for Duncan, I believe, that Alistair dedicates his time and personal interest to the Grey Wardens."

"Of course…and what of your husband, Sweet Thing?" A meaningful smile played across Isabella's full lips.

Chandra studied the broken seal of the missive, "I have his support…"

"No need to read it," interrupted Isabella unapologetically, "Zev, made a side trip to Antivia on his way back from Par Vollen."

"He has found the last one," exclaimed Chandra.

"What spell do you cast over Zev that he would so recklessly venture back to the nest of assassins?"

Chandra shot a warning glance at Isabella, "Believe you me when I tell you...I have conjured no spells over Zev or anybody else for that matter. Zevran is a dear and trusted friend. That's all."

"Is that all? Or do you take advantage of Zevran's feelings towards you," implied Isabella.

"Zevran's friendship means much to me. I have never suggested that there was anything more between us."

Isabella detected the guilt in the Warden's voice.

"Come, let us play a game of Wicked Grace," changing the subject, "for old times sake. There should be no malice between us. I can see we both care for Zev, Sweet Thing."

Chandra poured wine for both of them. "And no dealing from the bottom," she chided as she smiled in response to Isabella's favored pet name for her. "You must also promise me a duel. I find I am need of some distraction. I am put out with this self-imposed prison."

It reminded Chandra of another prison...


	2. The Harrowing

___**SPECIAL NOTICE: THIS STORY HAS BEEN PUT ASIDE UNTIL I GET TO A POINT IN IT'S SISTER STORY ALWAYS. THAT WAY I WON'T REVEAL THE ENDING OF ALWAYS. THUS, I RECOMMEND READING ALWAYS FIRST. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. GALESONG**_

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_Thank you for your time and patience. The only thing I have changed in this Chapter was main character's name and title of story. This is a sister story to ALWAYS with Chandra as main character. Galesong1234_

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**Chapter 2: The Harrowing**

"I heard that Cullen is in love with you." It was on the lips of every female apprentice. Chandra was never one to be caught up in idle gossip. She made it a point to completely ignore it as much of it pertained to her. Today was no different.

Chanda had awaked to the excitable screeching of Jowan, "Are you all right? They carried you in this morning. I didn't realize you'd been gone all night." She squeezed her eyes shut hoping to block out Jowan's infernal chatter, "I've heard about apprentices who never come back from Harrowings. Is it really that dangerous? What was it like?"

"It was a test of abilities. That's all," Chandra snapped at her friend as she sat up and pushed herself off the bed, "You'll go through it soon enough."

"I've been ready for a long time. I'm afraid they don't want me to take the test." Chandra's eyes narrowed on Jowan until they were slits as he continued, "You do the Harrowing, the Right of Tranquility...or you die. That's what happens..." Jowan released his fevered grasp from Chandra's arm.

"You worry too much. It's annoying," she commented less severely.

"I shouldn't waste your time with this. I was supposed to tell you to see Irving as soon as you woke up."

"No, you shouldn't have," thought Chandra as she pushed open the doors of the dormitory. Jowan had been there longer than her. If taking the Harrowing was based on those circumstances, by all accounts Jowan should have already been housed in the mages quarters upstairs.

It wasn't that Jowan lacked the knowledge or the power, Chandra simply had more determination. It was a mask she used to hide the inner turmoil that brewed within her. Chandra's magi skills were strong and her primal arcane knowledge was equal to any senior mage that resided at the Circle.

She knew what the other apprentices thought of her. Irving's prized pupil. Irving's pet. Chandra cared not what others thought. She busied herself with the tasks appointed to her as she strongly disliked confrontation. At least that was what she tried to remind herself. There was nothing she could keep hidden from Irving. The First Enchanter kept Chandra on a very short leash.

What was the point? She was just another faceless apprentice that belonged to the Tower of Magi. She was just another body that filled one of the many beds in the dormitories. Like the rest of her kind, Chandra was trapped behind the secure walls of the Tower, nameless and faceless to the world outside.

Chandra rounded the last corner of the library and headed towards the stairs that led to the First Enchanter's apartments when it hit her again. It was like a pommel strike to the head, the hushed comments came rushing at her, "I heard that Cullen is in love with you."

If Knight-Commander Greagoir caught wind of this and believed such falsehood, it would mean her death. It would mean Cullen's death. Such relations were forbidden by the Chantry. Of a sudden Chandra's pace slowed and her feet became heavy as she climbed the stairs to her doom.


	3. Cullen

**__****SPECIAL NOTICE: THIS STORY HAS BEEN PUT ASIDE UNTIL I GET TO A POINT IN IT'S SISTER STORY ALWAYS. THAT WAY I WON'T REVEAL THE ENDING OF ALWAYS. THUS, I RECOMMEND READING ALWAYS FIRST. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. GALESONG**

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**Chapter 3: Cullen**

Cullen. Cullen was her friend. Cullen was her instructor. Cullen was one of her guards. Cullen was a templar.

For one hour of every day of the 29th year of the 9th age of Dragon, Chandra received Weapons training from Cullen. Cullen had taught Chandra to put her weight into her swing in order to make a Mighty Blow; use the flat edge of her sword to knock down her enemy with a Pommel Strike; and to make a Critical Strike with a single massive swing. Chanda relished every bump, bruise and scrape she received. She considered them a tribute to her time spent with Cullen.

Though she hoped otherwise, Chandra held no delusions that her relationship with Cullen was anything more; nor, had Cullen reciprocated in those feelings. She was a mage and he remained, as ever, a templar.

A rare but humorless smile played across Chandra's full lips as she was reminded of the events that lead up to her training with Cullen.

"Fire, earth, cold and electricity" began Senior Enchanter Torrin, "Not only must you learn to channel their energy..." Absent mindedly Chandra snapped her thumb and forefinger together and produced a flame. Next she formed a fist and stone encapsulated her clenched fingers. One-by-one Chandra formed the gestures. Her fingers were quick and efficient, a flattened palm for cold and a flutter for electricity. "You must learn to harness their power," continued Enchanter Torrin.

Deep within the chasm of Chandra's inner self surged an anomaly of power. It energized the complete fabric of Chandra's being. This storm was held in check by the smallest of threads, willpower.

Chandra was bored with magic. The walls of the tower had become a Telekinetic force around Chandra threatening to crush her spirit and trap her soul. Inwardly she smirked, "I wonder if I would be able to chew off my own foot?"

Godwin, always one to cower in the presence of danger or confrontation, had watched Chandra in nervous fascination. All eyes of the apprentices had been focused on Enchanter Torrin while he walked around and demonstrated The Frost Weapons spell. Godwin heard the snapping and crackling of electricity while it snaked around Chandra's dancing fingers.

"If you don't learn to discipline your mind," the senior enchanter went on. Godwin's eyes grew large in his boney face. Whack! Torrin's divining rod came crashing down on Chandra's desk, "You will leave yourself open to processions." Chandra's head snapped to attention at the same time her fingers stopped and sparks shot across the room.

"You, you hurt me. I don't want to die. Oh, maker!" bleated Godwin. Gingerly, he touched his smoldering scalp causing it to snap and crackle again. This time Godwin's eyes practically fell out of his head as he scrambled to hide under his desk.

"Don't be such a coward," snapped Chandra, "You still have hair." The senior enchanter stopped Chandra with a disparaging look, "Godwin, by the maker, pick your self off the floor."

Chandra snatched up her notes and was about to make a hasty retreat when the senior enchanter blocked her escape. He readily held out a piece of writing chalk which he dropped into Chandra's hand. Without a second thought to Chandra, Torrin turned and released the other apprentices. They would have their leave to walk the grounds outside. Chandra was left to her own brash thoughts - the severity of her punishment all the more inherent.

"Magic should exist to serve mankind and never rule over him," Chandra recited as she scratched out Andraste's precept on the dark board. Again she recapitulates, "Magic should exist to serve..." The chalk breaks halfway through the sentence.

Chandra's lip turned up in an unflattering snarl, "Andraste, you sodding whore!" Her fists balled tightly at her sides the chalk completely obliterated. It had been the vilest thing she could retaliate with.

Out of the corner of her eye there was movement. It was a blight spider the size of her foot coming out of the wall. Thinking nothing of it, Chandra grabbed up the discarded dagger Enchanter Torrin had been using. With all her mite she flung it across the room only to have it fall short and land with a loud thud to the thatched floor causing Chandra more vexation. Chandra's sharp eyes narrowed on the missed target, tilted her head to the side and shot out a stream of lighting.

"Hah! That will put you in your place," Chandra screamed out in a most satisfactory way as the spider became a crispy shell of its former self.

"You throw like a girl," replied a muffled voice. Chandra turned around and looked for the unseen. In her tirade, Chandra forgot that she wasn't alone, "Look! It…speaks," referring to the approaching Templar.

There was little that Chandra could remember of her former life before the Tower; however, what she never forgot was that it was a templar that snatched her away from all those she loved to deposit her in this tower of no light. Templars were a part of the Tower just as much as she was. They always watched, but were never seen. Chandra had feared and hated them in her youth, now she didn't give them a moment's thought. The only templar to hold any power over her was Knight-Commander Greagoir. To Chandra, he was just a thorn in her side.

Chandra watched from hooded eyes as the templar walked across the room towards the fallen dagger. Her eyes grew slightly larger as she watched the unimaginable. The templar removed his helm. It was at that moment the nameless and faceless had become a man to Chandra, not a templar.

"Play with your stick and leave the blades to us warriors." it said in a most calm voice as he reached down to retrieve the dagger. Chandra garnered her composure and challenged, "It..._You_ can do better?"

Chandra was about to snatch the dagger out of the templar's hand when he held it away from her. "Cullen." Chandra did a double take. "My name is Cullen," answered the templar. Did Chandra detect the slightest of smiles playing across his youthful face? For, most assuredly, he could not have been more than a hand or older than she.

Like an indignant child, Chandra held out her hand. "Give it!" She demanded. Cullen's eyes never left hers as he laid the dagger across her open palm. "Milady," Cullen slightly bowed, "I must report the spider infestation." Cullen dismissively turned and walked away.

Chandra blinked and shook her head in disbelief. She concentrated all her power into the dagger as she aimed for the back of Cullen's handsome blond head. Thankfully, the dagger missed, hit the doorway and landed with another ear-ringing thwack. Chandra uncharacteristically stomped her foot in annoyance and smiled when she heard the unmistakable sound of a certain man's muffled laughter.

Into the night, when the candle had burned the last of its wick, Chandra had finished the last word of the last line of Andraste's precept. It was at that late hour that she had been summoned to Irving's office. Her fingers cramped, her back ached and her stomach grumbled, but Chandra vowed that she would do all again if it meant being able to see Cullen.

If Irving had expected a contrite heart and a willing spirit from her, then he truly did not know Chandra. She never faltered or conceived once her mind was set. It was both her strength and her weakness. Chandra took the stairs by two then half skipped the remainder of the way.

"You may enter," was Irving's response to Chandra's knock. Would she be required to wash floors, empty chamber pots, or have her rations cut? These things Chandra pondered as she waited for the First Enchanter to pass judgment on the day's shortcomings.

Upon her entry Irving simply said, "Tomorrow begins your Arcane Warrior training. The templar, Cullen, will teach you the proper use of a blade." Irving went back to deciphering some scrolls and Chandra knew that she had been dismissed.

Chandra was vaguely aware of what an Arcane Warrior was and had even less knowledge of what was involved, but she would make it a point to find out. All that mattered was that she would see Cullen again. Chandra hummed a tuneless melody to herself as she made her way back to her bunk. Finally, her life had purpose again.


	4. Duncan

**__****SPECIAL NOTICE: THIS STORY HAS BEEN PUT ASIDE UNTIL I GET TO A POINT IN IT'S SISTER STORY ALWAYS. THAT WAY I WON'T REVEAL THE ENDING OF ALWAYS. THUS, I RECOMMEND READING ALWAYS FIRST. THANK YOU FOR YOUR PATIENCE. GALESONG**

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**Chapter 4: Duncan**

Jowan had mentioned that Irving wanted to see her immediately after she woke up from her Harrowing. With her thoughts more on the task at hand, Chandra hastened her pace after she reached the top of the stairs and headed for the First Enchanter's office.

Chandra stopped just short of the entrance upon hearing the heated repartee between Greagoir and Irving. For an ephemeral moment fear washed over Chandra's porcelain features and then it was gone. The only evidence regarding her feelings for Cullen was in her own hidden girlish fantasies, and those she kept locked away behind a mask of indifference. Chandra squared her shoulders and strode into the room to meet her fate promptly and boldly.

"...Many have already gone to Ostagar...Wynne, Uldred and most of the senior mages." Greagior's face was ablaze in righteous fury as he listed off the names of the missing mages to Irving.

Chandra's entry had either been ignored or unnoticed for Greagoir to be caught in such an indiscreet moment. She continued to listen to Greagoir, "We committed enough of our own to this war effort."

"Your own? Since when have you felt such kinship with the mages, Greagior?" Irving's own demeanor was suffused with an exhilaration that Chandra had never witnessed in the First Enchanter before. "Or are you afraid to let the mages out from under Chantry supervision, where they can actually use their maker-given powers?" Chandra watched the color drain from Greagoir's face at the last of Irving's conclusions.

"Please. Irving, someone is here to see you." So enthralled in the exchange between the First Enchanter and the Knight Commander, Chandra had not given the third party much deliverance until he spoke. At first glance, the elder man looked to be a destitute warrior of sorts. His armor was old and mismatched. Some of it resembled a templar, but lacked the polish. His dark hair, finely streaked with grey, was carelessly tied back with a piece of leather. The gold single earring he wore along with the thick cropped beard gave him a rakish look.

"First Enchanter," Chandra announced herself.

"Ah, if it isn't our new sister in the Circle. Come child," invited Irving with a sweeping motion of his extended hand.

"This is...," questioned the capricious warrior. His unwavering gaze never left Chandra.

"Yes, this is she." There was more implied in Irving's statement than Chandra could surmise. Chandra gave Irving's companion another once-over. Perhaps Chandra had been too quick in her deductions? The armor, at second glance, was scarred by many battles. Though mismatched, each piece served a purpose. Comfort and protection seemed to be at the top of the list. The dark tan on the man's weathered face confirmed his nomadic nature. The two blades, slung over his back, were polished to perfection indicating that they were his greatest treasure and assets.

"Well, Irving, you're obviously busy. We will discuss this later." It was obvious to all Greagoir's excuse had fallen on deaf ears.

"Of course! Well, then where was I? Oh, yes. This is Duncan, of the Grey Wardens." Chandra watched as Irving's knowing gaze jumped from the man in question to her.

Chandra eyed Duncan suspiciously, "A Grey Warden? In the Tower?"

"Grey Wardens go wherever duty sends them. With the darkspawn invading we need all the help we can get, especially from the Circle."

"You've heard about the war brewing to the south, I expect? Duncan is recruiting mages to join the king's army at Ostagar," Irving turned and directed his question to Chandra.

Life outside the Tower held little interest for some mages, while for others that was all they occupied their minds with. The only source of information to be had was from vendors that came and went. If one was paying attention, one could glean tidbits from the templars themselves. Chandra was one of such mages. The outside was always on Chandra's mind, until Cullen. What did she care of the outside, Cullen and the Tower were her life now.

Chandra answered with an irrelevant, "What do you mean?"

"The power you mages wield is an asset to any army. Your spells are very effective against large groups of mindless darkspawn. I fear if we don't drive them back we may see another Blight." Duncan had directed his comments to Chandra as if he meant them for her ears alone.

"Duncan, you worry the poor girl with talk of blights and darkspawn. This is a happy day for her." The First Enchanter shushed Duncan away.

"We live in troubled times, my friend," sighed the Grey Warden.

"We should seize moments of levity, especially in troubled times." Irving answered with one of his infamous quotes and continued, "The Harrowing is behind you. Your phylactery was sent to Denerim. You are officially a mage with the Circle of Magi. You have proved that you are strong enough to handle your power responsibly."

"I'm sorry - what is this phylactery?" Duncan's question seemed most sincere.

"Blood is taken from all apprentices when they first come to the Tower and is preserved in special vials," the First Enchanter was clinical in his disclosure.

"So we can be hunted if we turn Apostate," Chandra drummed in remembering that forgotten piece of erudition. She was heady with thoughts of Cullen and wished nothing more than to be away from these two men and their scrutiny of her.

"I present you with your robes, your staff and a ring bearing the Circle's insignia. Wear them proudly, for you have earned them." Chandra reached over and took the small bundle from Irving. As for the staff? She looked at it rather disdainfully. Chandra would much rather wield a sword than carry a piece of gnarled wood around. Regrettably, she reached out for that as well.

"What now," Chandra flatly questioned.

"Patience, child. You have been through an ordeal. Let us not rush things." Chandra rolled her eyes at Irving's response.

"I prefer to talk now," Chandra demanded.

The First Enchanter chuckled and dismissed Chandra with another infamous quote, "Impetuousness is ever the province of youth, I see."

"I will return to my quarters," interrupted the Grey Warden.

"Would you be so kind as to escort Duncan back to his room, child?"

"It would be my pleasure," Chandra practically jumped at the chance.

Chandra walked ahead of the Grey Warden in Silence. She could not put aside the naggings at the back of her mind; abruptly, she stopped, turned and blurted, "Why were Irving and Greagoir arguing about the war?"

If Duncan had not been studying the mage so intently, he would have plowed her over through the force of his impact. He stopped short of the perplexed mage and answered, "Greagoir serves the Chantry, and the relationship between Chantry and mages has always been strained. You've realized by now that the Chantry merely tolerates magic."

"I don't see why the Chantry and mages can't get along." Chandra's aggravated response had more to do with how Cullen might perceive her versus Duncan's remarks.

"The Chantry believes that a mage should fear his...or her...power. It was the pride of the mages they say, that brought darkspawn upon us in the first place." Chandra felt that Duncan had singled her out at that moment and it chafed her hide.

The day was not going well for Chandra; first Jowan, then the rumor and now this pesky Grey Warden. Chandra put a cool hand to her aching temple, "Let's be off. I'd rather not think about it."

"Avoiding the problem does not make it disappear. The darkspawn are a real threat we cannot ignore." Duncan wouldn't stop, "Any mages who join the king's army can unleash their full power on the darkspawn. In fact, I'm counting on it."

"But standing around talking solves nothing. Let us go." Chandra marched ahead in reticence until she stood at the entry of Duncan's quarters.

"Thank you for walking with me. I am glad for the company."

"Do you think I could join the army?" Chandra didn't know what had made her say this, but it was out before she could stop herself.

"I don't know, do you?" Duncan answered her with his own question. Somehow Chandra discerned the Grey Warden already knew the answer to that question.

"I doubt I would be allowed to go. I should take my leave." Chandra answered quickly hoping to put an end to the discussion.

"Ah, listen to me...an old man's ranting can't be very interesting."

"As an apprentice, old men talking have defined my life." Chandra could not resist the Grey Warden's roguish charm and finished with an accommodating smile.

"Yes, I'm sure they did?" Duncan ended their conversation on a happier note and left Chandra to her own thoughts as he entered his quarters.


End file.
